Shadows Still Remain
by Addie Logan
Summary: Cordelia Chase finds herself suddenly pulled back into the world it seemed she'd left behind—but with everything changed, can she find her place in it again? PostNot Fade Away, AngelxCordelia
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own _Angel_. It's the property of Joss Whedon and his zany band of television producers. I'm making no profit off of this story.

Rating: R.

Summary: Cordelia Chase finds herself suddenly pulled back into the world it seemed she'd left behind—but with everything changed, can she find her place in it again? (Post-"Not Fade Away," Angel/Cordelia)

Feedback and archiving: Feedback is very welcome, but do be at least polite. I usually allow archiving, but please ask first so I can have a chance to look at the site and make a definite answer.

* * *

_"And when your fears subside  
And shadows still remain  
I know that you can love me  
When there's no one left to blame  
So never mind the darkness  
We still can find a way…"  
—"November Rain," Guns N Roses_ _

* * *

_When she woke, all she knew was cold so intense it felt as if it could sear her without heat. She gasped for air, her sluggish limbs reaching out blindly, searching for an escape. 

Suddenly, her arm hit glass, and the glass shattered under the blow, causing her to topple down to the hard ground. She gasped again, pulling desperate, burning breaths into her lungs, then began to cough, her body curling as she shivered uncontrollably.

Around her, alarms began to sound, red lights flashing and making her eyes ache. The ground trembled and shook, and through it all, she knew one thing.

_She needed to run…_

Intense pain coursed through her with every movement, but still she pulled herself from the ground and to her shaky feet. She took a step, then stumbled, barely catching herself on the edge of a steel table. The room shook again and she grasped the table tighter, determination setting in her dark eyes. Though her legs were weak and she still trembled from the cold, she pushed forward, her focus set firmly on the door. Near it hung a white coat, and she grabbed it, wrapping it around her chilled body before she walked out into the hall.

There, she found chaos, as if the world around her were falling apart. People ran around in all different directions, yet none of them seemed to notice her, their own survival foremost on their minds.

She stopped in the hall, her eyes squinting as she adjusted to the strange lights and tried to decide where she should go. Then, with a terrible roar, she had her answer. She looked behind her to see the building collapsing in on itself, stone and concrete falling like straw. Ignoring the pain still filling her, she ran, refusing to look back again until finally, she was bursting through an emergency exit. She threw herself onto the grass, panting heavily as she turned around and watched the building crumble into rubble.

Fearing she wasn't far enough away, she pulled herself up and ran until she could carry herself no further and darkness engulfed her again.

* * *

Intrigued? Please leave a review and let me know if you want me to continue with this story. 


	2. Chapter One

"Cordelia? Cordelia Chase, is that you?"

She groaned, her mind and body protesting the sound of the voice pulling her reluctantly towards consciousness. When it persisted, she opened her eyes, and blinked as the image of a blonde woman came into focus.

The woman smiled. "You're awake! I was really starting to worry there. Cordelia, it's me, Anne Steele. Remember, we met before—you know, with the zombies."

When the only response she got was a blank stare, Anne frowned. "You don't remember me, do you? What happened to you, Cordelia? I know something went down—something big. Were you caught in that?"

Still, she got no answer, and Anne knew Cordelia was in bad shape. Granted, she'd never known the other woman very well, but she had gotten the distinct impression she wasn't the type who normally hung out in alleyways in nothing but a dirty white coat. She held out her hand. "Come on, Cordelia. I'll take you someplace safe, okay?"

The brunette eyed the outstretched hand warily. This woman kept saying "Cordelia"—was _she_ Cordelia? She couldn't remember anything, her own name included. She had no idea where she was or what had happened to her, but the blonde woman seemed nice and she seemed like she knew her. Hesitantly, she took her hand.

Anne helped Cordelia to her feet, then steadied her when she began to waiver. "Come on, my car's close by. Let's get you out of here."

* * *

For the first time since she'd woken up in that strange place, Cordelia was beginning to feel warm. Anne had found her some comfortable clothes and had fixed her a bowl of soup, both of which had helped immensely. Now, they were sitting at a small table in the kitchen of Anne's apartment.

"Things have been really bad tonight," Anne said, bringing Cordelia's attention to her. "The reports on the news have been saying it's gang wars, but a lot of the kids who have been streaming in tonight have been saying it's monsters. That's why I went out. I was trying to see if I could find anyone who needed help." She gave Cordelia a small smile. "I guess I did."

Anne's words were making little sense to Cordelia. She could pick out some, but the overall meaning of the sentences was lost. She'd determined her name must be Cordelia since Anne had said it so much, but the word was as strangely unfamiliar to her as everything else.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Anne asked, unaware of Cordelia's current state of confusion. "I know you're involved with all that monster fighting stuff. Is that what happened to you? Was there some kind of big fight, and you got hurt?"

Cordelia stared across the table at Anne, her only sign of life the occasional blink. Anne frowned as she began to catch on to the situation. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you? Do you even understand what I'm saying?" When she got no response, Anne assumed a negative. She sighed and said softly, this time expecting no answer, "Cordelia, what happened to you?"

Anne stood and walked over to Cordelia, guiding her to her feet and away from the table. She spoke as she did, still unsure if Cordelia didn't understand her at all, or if she simply couldn't answer. Either way, she felt more comfortable if she was talking, the silence seeming too heavy. "Come on, you need rest. You can take my bed. I'm going downstairs to the shelter, because I'm sure I'm needed down there. It was pretty hectic when I left, and I've already been gone too long."

Anne brought Cordelia into her small bedroom and guided her over to the bed. Cordelia did seem to understand that much, and she lay down when Anne guided her. "Here, sleep," Anne said. "I'll be up to check on you when I can."

Cordelia lay her head down on the pillow, exhaustion quickly catching up with her.

However, when she slept, it was full of dark dreams she didn't understand, and it brought her little rest.

* * *

Sunlight streamed in through the window, and Cordelia winced as her eyes opened, turning away from the light. Most of the events of the previous night were foggy at best, and she still had no idea who she was or where she really was for that matter.

She did, however, remember Anne, and Cordelia smiled when she walked into the kitchen and found the blonde woman at the stove. Anne turned when she heard Cordelia come in, and returned the brunette's smile. "Good morning," Anne said. "It looks like we all made it through the night. Whatever was going on out there seems to have ended, so I think we're safe for now. Do you remember anything this morning?"

Cordelia answered Anne's question with silence, so Anne took it as a no. Deciding it would be useless to press it any further, she instead walked over to Cordelia and guided her to sit down. "Here, I made you some breakfast," Anne said as she walked away from the table and to the stove. "I didn't have a lot, but I did have some eggs and some toast, and I doubt that soup did much for you last night."

Anne brought Cordelia a plate and a glass of water, then started to fix herself something to eat as well. "I'm sorry if all my rambling is bothering you or anything," Anne said as Cordelia inspected her eggs. "It just feels weird not saying anything at all, you know?"

Cordelia didn't start eating her food until she saw Anne sit down and take a bite of hers, assuring her the strange, yellow mass must be safe enough to eat.

"I tried to call your friends," Anne said after swallowing a bite. "Or at least I guess they're still your friends. All I had was Gunn's cell phone number, but he didn't answer. I'll keep trying, though. You seemed really close before, so I figure you probably want to get back to them."

Cordelia didn't look up, only continued to eat. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she had the food in front of her.

Anne watched Cordelia, her heart going out to the other woman. She had no idea what had happened to her, but it had clearly been something traumatic. For one thing, in the short amount of time she'd been around her, Anne had come to the conclusion Cordelia was rarely anywhere _near_ this quiet, She wondered if Cordelia's throat had been hurt somehow or if whatever had happened to her had actually been enough for her to _forget_ how to speak.

Maybe she should take Cordelia to a doctor, find out if there was something physically wrong with her. A couple of doctors were supposed to be coming by the shelter later to examine some of the people who had been rescued from the so-called "gang wars" which had occurred the night before. Anne decided she'd have one of them take a look at Cordelia as well.

For now, she simply got up and brought her more to eat.

* * *

"So there's nothing wrong with her at all?" Anne asked, trying to verify what the doctor had just told her. It seemed impossible with the way Cordelia was behaving she wouldn't have at least some kind of injury.

"Nothing physical, no," the doctor replied. "She seems to be in perfect health. There's not as much as a scratch on her." He cleared his throat. "However, I don't think I'd be wrong in assuming whatever she's been through has damaged her psychologically. I believe what would be best for her now would be to take her to the psychiatric ward at the hospital, have them try to help her."

Something about the doctor's advice made Anne feel cold. Sure, she hadn't know Cordelia particularly well, but she had known her, and at one point they'd even fought side by side. She couldn't in good conscience simply drop her off at a mental hospital, especially since—if what she'd seen anytime she'd had any contact with Angel's people was indication—what had happened to Cordelia was most likely more than any regular doctor could handle. If Anne tried to explain to them that whatever happened to Cordelia was probably because of some kind of demon or a vampire, they'd put Anne in the room right there with her.

"Thank you, for the advice," Anne replied with a smile. "I'll decide what to do. We're…we're old friends."

The doctor put his hand against Anne's shoulder. "Then make sure you give your friend the help she needs."

Anne nodded. "I will. Thank you." She walked over to Cordelia, took her gently by the arm, and guided her back upstairs to the small apartment.

* * *

Cordelia woke up with a start, gasping for air as sweat beaded on her forehead. She'd had another dream, only this time, something about it seemed different.

She shook her head, trying to clear away the horrible images, only to find she couldn't. They stayed, vivid in her mind, refusing to leave until…

_Until she fixed it…_

In the haze her life had become, this seemed familiar—this seemed _right_. She knew without hesitation what she'd seen was not a dream, but something that would come to pass very soon—unless she stopped it.

Cordelia slid out of the bed and gathered the clothes Anne had given her from where she'd placed them on a chair, removing her sweats and tank top she'd been sleeping in to change into them. Once she was dressed, she crept silently from the apartment, looking at Anne for only a moment to make sure the blonde was still asleep on her cot in the living room. She needed to leave now, needed to find the monster whose face had woken her from sleep.

She had a mission.

* * *

Her feet seemed to know where to go even if she was clueless of her surroundings, and soon Cordelia found herself standing in the same spot she had seen in her dream. A woman's scream caught her attention, and she turned quickly towards the sight of a tall, scaly creature lumbering towards a frightened woman.

Instinct kicked in as power surged through her, and Cordelia charged the demon, tossing it away from the woman. The demon roared in outrage and came at his attacker, smacking Cordelia hard with its clawed hand and slicing open a gash on her forehead. Cordelia narrowed her eyes even as blood trickled down into one and she leapt up, coming at the demon again. This time when it moved to strike her, she ducked, then grabbed its arm, wrenching it behind the creature's back.

The demon howled in pain as Cordelia forced it to the ground, its knees hitting the hard concrete. She let go of its arm then, but before the demon could blink, Cordelia grabbed its neck and twisted, a loud crack sounding in the alley before the demon slumped dead to the ground.

Had she the memories to compare the amount of strength she was used to having to that she had needed to break the demon's neck, Cordelia would've been highly disturbed by what she'd just done. As it was, she simply stepped back and wiped the blood and sweat from her brow, happy she'd been able to prevent the terrible vision which had pulled her from sleep.

"Oh, wow. I can't… You just saved me."

Cordelia looked up sharply when the woman spoke. Her face was pale from fright and she was trembling, but the look she gave Cordelia was one of sheer gratitude. "That thing, it would've killed me, but you saved me. You're…you're like an angel."

In everything the woman said, one word made its way through the cloudy mess in Cordelia's mind, the sound of it triggering memories she couldn't quite access. She clung to the word, desperate to remember what it had once meant to her as she let it roll off her tongue.

"Angel…"

"Is that what you are?" the woman asked. "Are you like, my guardian angel or something? 'Cause that thing…it looked like a demon."

"Angel," Cordelia whispered, more to herself than the woman, before she turned and ran out of the alley.

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Thank you to the people who reviewed the prologue and let me know you were interested. If you are liking this story, please leave a review and let me know! 


	3. Chapter Two

Anne was doing some paperwork for the shelter at her kitchen table, not wanting to go downstairs to her office until Cordelia awoke. She had been able to tell from her behavior the day before that the dark-haired woman truly had no idea what was going on and possibly even who she was. The doctor had assured Anne nothing was physically wrong with Cordelia, which ruled out any chance of a physical ailment preventing her from speaking, but Cordelia had done nothing to try to communicate another way, which made Anne think it was indeed something psychological. Cordelia seemed…_lost_.

She'd given the doctor's recommendation to bring Cordelia to the psychiatric ward a little more thought, but Anne still didn't feel comfortable with the idea. It felt too much like abandoning her. She didn't think Cordelia was crazy. It seemed more like she'd been through something traumatic, a theory that was backed up by how Anne had found her two nights earlier. She supposed psychiatrists would be more experienced in how to deal with the situation than Anne herself was, but given the circumstances, she didn't know how much help they'd be.

And Anne wanted to help. Genuinely help, not just gloss over the problem by giving it a name and Cordelia some sort of medication, the way it would probably happen if she turned Cordelia over to the hospital. Helping people was what Anne did. It was the way she stood up, the way she was strong enough to make a difference. It was what she'd been taught years ago by the girl who had given her her name…

Anne looked up when she heard Cordelia come into the kitchen and gasped at the sight of a cut on her head. "What happened to you?" Anne asked, helping Cordelia over to sit at the table. "Did you fall out of bed and hit it on the side table?"

Anne hadn't really been expecting an answer from Cordelia, but she voiced the only theory she could come up with all the same. She couldn't imagine any other way Cordelia could've gotten such a nasty cut on her head. "Stay here," Anne said as she went into the bathroom to get her first aid kit. She came out a few minutes later, glad to see that Cordelia was patiently waiting for her.

Cordelia didn't flinch as Anne cleaned her wound with an antiseptic swab, then covered it with a piece of gauze. "It's not deep enough for stitches, so that's good," Anne said as she taped the gauze down. "And it doesn't look quite as bad as I thought it was, now that I've cleaned the blood off."

Cordelia smiled her gratitude to Anne for tending to the wound, and Anne smiled back. She'd helped there, she knew, and she felt productive. She'd been at a loss for how to really take care of Cordelia since her guest had arrived, never sure if she was getting all of her needs met since Cordelia couldn't verbally communicate them. Anne had done what she could though, making sure Cordelia had food, clothes, and a place to sleep.

And now Anne figured Cordelia must be hungry again. She closed up the first aid kit and went to the fridge in order to find something to eat.

As Cordelia ate her breakfast, she kept replaying the events of the night before in her mind. Even without any solid memories of anything before waking up in the collapsing building, she knew what she'd seen—and what she'd done—shouldn't be normal. Only it _felt_ normal, at least for her. She didn't think the other people she'd met since Anne found her saw pictures in their minds of things that hadn't happened yet the way she had, but the thought of it happening to her didn't scare her.

She also hadn't been frightened by the monster she'd face. It had been a horrible sight, but she hadn't flinched, hadn't screamed the way the woman she'd saved had. Instead, she'd seemed to have an instinctual drive to fight and kill the creature. Was killing monsters something she'd once done often?

However, one detail from the night before seemed to stand out above all others. _Angel_… Why had that one word been so familiar to her when nothing else was? The sound of it had been the most familiar thing Cordelia had known since she'd woken up—more familiar than the word she'd come to realize was her own name. It had stirred something inside of her to hear it, tried to pull forward memories Cordelia couldn't seem to access.

One thing she knew for sure, though, Angel was a name, someone she'd known. She didn't know who, but it was someone—someone important.

Cordelia looked up at Anne, and wondered if perhaps she'd know. She'd seemed to know who Cordelia herself was anyway—would she possibly know other people from Cordelia's life as well? Maybe if she said the name, Anne would know, and could help her find Angel, whoever and wherever he was.

"Angel," Cordelia said, the sound of the voice of her previously-mute houseguest making Anne glance up from her papers sharply.

"Angel? Do you remember him?" Anne asked.

"Angel," Cordelia repeated, wishing she had the words to make what she needed clearer.

Anne shook her head. "I don't know where he is. I've been trying to call Gunn to find out—do you remember Gunn?"

Cordelia stared blankly for a moment before she repeated softly, sadly, "Angel."

Anne didn't know how close Cordelia and Angel had been. The last time she'd had any real contact with the both of them, there'd been a rift. She'd talked to Gunn enough to know at least that they'd started working with Angel again, but she'd never gotten any details on his friends' personal lives. She wondered what sort of relationship they'd had if Cordelia could remember him when she didn't seem to remember anything else. Had Cordelia been the ensouled vampire's lover?

In any case, Anne was wondering now if perhaps Angel was the key to helping Cordelia. If they were lovers—or even simply close friends—then perhaps Angel could help jog Cordelia's memory in ways Anne couldn't. The question was, how could Anne track down someone like Angel? She doubted she could simply look him up in the phone book… The last she'd heard from Gunn, Angel had been working at Wolfram and Hart—something Anne had to admit shocked her, given his hatred of the firm in the previous run-in she'd had with him—but even any lead there was gone. She'd heard on the news that the LA office of Wolfram and Hart had mysteriously collapsed in what was being called a "localized earthquake."

After hearing that, Anne had wondered if Cordelia had been a survivor from there, though she had no way of verifying her theory. It certainly seemed more than likely, given that she'd found Cordelia not far from the building on the night of the collapse, but it still didn't tell Anne what had really happened. Simply surviving an earthquake didn't make people forget who they were and how to talk. If that were the case, most of California would be made up of amnesiacs. Something else had happened, something big enough to destroy Wolfram and Hart, send demons into the streets, and make Cordelia Chase forget who she was.

And Anne was willing to bet good money Angel was indeed at the center of it all. She just needed to find him and hope he could help Cordelia more than she could.

Deciding Anne wasn't going to be able to show her who Angel was, Cordelia gave up asking and went back to her food.

* * *

When another vision came, Cordelia was ready. Somehow, she'd known it was coming, and she waited for it.

She crept out again, following her instincts and letting them guide her to a late-night diner, where she waited in the shadows for what she'd seen in her vision to begin.

A waitress stepped out of the diner and locked the door behind her, and Cordelia knew it was almost time. Silently, she waited for the moments to pass until two strange men approached the woman, hunger in their amber eyes.

A voice deep inside of Cordelia was telling her what they were. She knew it as well as she could know anything these days.

_Vampires._

_"Head and heart,"_ something seemed to whisper to her. _"Head and heart_."

As the first vampire leaned in to bite the terrified waitress, Cordelia made her move. She lunged for the vampire, tackling him before his fangs could enter the girl's throat. He snarled at Cordelia from the ground then jumped back to his feet, their previous prey forgotten as both vampires turned their attention on the woman who had interfered with their hunt.

They attacked; Cordelia blocked. Her muscles seemed to remember the moves even if her mind did not, and she fought them as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be doing. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the waitress run, but she didn't try to stop her fight now that she'd saved the girl. The demons who had wished to feed from her still needed to be stopped, and somehow, Cordelia knew it was her job to do.

She let the fight move into an alley beside the diner, still fending off the attacks from both sides. The longer she kept them at bay, the angrier the vampires became, and Cordelia knew she needed to end this soon. She looked quickly around the alley, a small smile forming on her lips as she spotted a wooden crate nearby. The way to kill them both became clear to her as she leapt up and over their heads, coming down beside the crate and smashing it with her hand.

The vampires were confused for only a moment before the first one charged at her, fangs bared. Cordelia grabbed a piece of wood from the broken crate and plunged it through his heart before the vampire had a chance to realize what she was doing, then watched with satisfaction as he exploded into dust.

The second vampire started at the sight before him, then turned to run, deciding a meal wasn't worth facing a woman who could do _that_. Without hesitation, Cordelia picked up a second broken piece of wood and threw it, watching it slice through the air and in through the vampire's back, slamming through to pierce his heart.

With a grin, she stepped over the two piles of dust and left the alley.

* * *

Anne was still asleep when Cordelia made her way back, and she was relieved to see she'd made it out without disturbing the other woman both nights she'd left now. Something told her Anne might be bothered by the idea of Cordelia going out to fight the monsters she saw in her dreams.

Cordelia went into the bathroom and shut the door before turning on the shower. She stripped off her borrowed clothes before stepping under the spray, grateful for the ease with which the warm water washed away the grime of her fight.

After she bathed, she turned off the water and got out of the shower, wrapping up in a towel she pulled off the rack. Cordelia wiped away the fog from the mirror and frowned at the sight of her reflection. She knew she was looking at her own face, but she couldn't shake the feeling of staring at a stranger instead.

_The worst part of all of this was not knowing herself._

The gauze over the cut on her head was damp and heavy from the shower and Cordelia peeled it away, noting how the mark was now no more than a tiny scratch. She threw the used gauze into the trash can before turning her attention back to herself, checking for any injuries from the fight with the two vampires. Aside from a couple of bruises, there didn't seem to be any, and she was pleased to note that.

Anne still hadn't awoken when Cordelia came out of the bathroom, and Cordelia walked softly back into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. She hung her towel over the edge of the bed before slipping back into her nightclothes and getting under the covers.

* * *

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	4. Chapter Three

Over the next week, Cordelia fell into a comfortable enough routine living with Anne. She found herself remembering little things—words, phrases—but nothing tangible enough to link her back to her own life.

She'd managed to convince Anne with the limited communication skills she had to move back into her own bedroom and give Cordelia the cot in the living room. Cordelia did feel a little bad about taking over her host's room for an extended period of time, but the truth of the matter was, she knew it would be easier to keep her nightly trips out quiet if she didn't have to sneak past Anne to leave.

During the day, Cordelia helped Anne out in the shelter. She didn't have to talk for that, and she felt by doing what she could there she was repaying Anne for her kindness.

Then at night, Cordelia went out, finding things to fight if her visions didn't come to guide her. She found that it was easiest for her to hunt down vampires, her body seeming to tingle when they were near, pulling her towards her prey.

If Anne was noticing the small cuts and bruises Cordelia was coming home with, she wasn't commenting. Cordelia made sure to tend to them before Anne woke up so she wouldn't worry like she had the first morning.

All in all, Cordelia knew she was settling into her new life. The problem remained, however, that she couldn't remember anything from her past, and that wasn't something she could ignore. It went beyond her frustration with not being able to communicate with other people the way she wanted. She needed to know exactly _who_ she really was.

Amnesia aside, she wasn't completely clueless, and she knew what she did at night wasn't normal. The more contact with other people she had the more she began to realize other things weren't normal, too—like how strong she seemed to be. She'd had to start watching what she lifted around other people to keep them from looking at her strangely.

Cordelia needed answers, and as days passed and she seemed no closer to getting them, her frustration mounted. The only clue she had to her lost past was a name of someone she didn't know where to begin to look for. So she accepted the routine, got through each day as best she could, and waited for the nights to come when she'd be able find a little peace in the darkness.

And then come home to dream of dark eyes set in a face she wanted desperately to remember.

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With her attempts to contact Charles Gunn continuing to fail, Anne knew she'd have to go about another way in locating Cordelia's friends. She'd found a listing in an old phone book for Angel Investigations, but when she'd called, she'd gotten a message that the number had been disconnected. Furthermore, Wolfram and Hart was still a pile of rubble, which gave her no chance of finding a lead there either.

Anne knew Cordelia was trying her best to make the most of her current situation, but she also knew there wasn't any way the other woman could be truly happy. She'd lost everything—her memories, her friends, her _life_. Anne wanted to help her, wanted to give Cordelia back the life she'd lost. After all, Cordelia had saved her life once—it was only fair she repaid the favor. Anne could still remember the cold hands of the zombie as he grabbed her, pulling her through the window—and how Cordelia hadn't hesitated in running to her aid, facing the zombie herself to make sure it didn't get Anne. It had been quick, and somehow Anne figured Cordelia had never given a second thought to it, but it had made all the difference to Anne.

So she made a decision. It wasn't something she'd ever wanted to do again, not something she'd wanted to think about, but for Cordelia, she'd face her own personal demons. She just hoped she could still remember how to fit in.

Instead of going back up to her apartment Friday night, Anne made her way to a club not too far away from the shelter known as the Lancet. A small dagger dripping with blood crossed over a rose decorated the sign, and just looking at that alone made her shiver. She shifted the material of her long, black dress, trying to find some level of comfort in the garment that had stopped being commonplace for her years ago, and stepped up to the door.

A man with artificially pale skin, badly dyed black hair, a cape, and an oversized red medallion stopped Anne when she approached the door. "This is a private club."

"I know," Anne replied, "But I'm interested in becoming a member. I have a desire to walk with those who understand the Lonely Ones." She fought back a wince, her act reminding her too much of the naïve girl she used to be.

The man eyed her skeptically. "Yeah? And why is that, exactly? I can't just let anyone through this door, you know."

"I understand. So many people would try to hurt us and the Ones we revere. They think Those Who Walk at Night are to be feared, to be hunted. But I have touched one myself, and I know what they really are."

The man's eyes widened at her declaration. "You've actually met a vampire? _Reall_y? That's so freaking cool!" He coughed and tried to revert back to his tough stance. "I mean, uh, how can I know that's true?"

Anne peeled back her choker and tilted her neck, revealing the scar she'd worn since that faithful night in Sunnydale that had changed her life forever. "I still bear his mark."

At that, the man gaped, his fingers reaching out to trace the scar and make Anne shudder in barely-contained revulsion. "Wow… I haven't ever seen anyone who's been so blessed before." He pulled back. "You can come in. I'll take you to Louis. He runs this place. Oh, I'm Byron, by the way."

"Chanterelle."

"Pretty name," Byron told her as he led her into the club. Anne followed closely behind him, glancing around her at the people who populated the Lancet. Is _that_ what she'd looked like when she'd been one of them? She winced. It was even worse than naming herself after a mushroom…

"Louis, we have someone who wants to join us," Byron announced as he stopped at a table with a man dressed similarly to Byron himself—only somewhat more convincingly—and two women who Anne would guess spent more money on the latest fashions at Hot Topic than food.

Louis looked up, his expression one of practiced disaffectedness, and waived his heavily-ringed hand over his drink. "Does she now? And who is this?"

"Chanterelle," Byron answered for her. "She's been bitten. I saw the mark."

Louis's eyes widened and he leaned forward closer to Chanterelle. "Really? Can I see it?"

Trying to hide her reluctance as she did so, Anne peeled her choker back again, showing her mark now to Louis. The two women also leaned forward, looks of jealousy on their faces as they saw the scar that Anne could think of as nothing but disfiguring. It was a horrible reminder of her past mistakes—and one that she spent a good deal of time trying to cover, not showing around like a badge of honor.

Still, she was here for a reason, and she may as well get the ball rolling so she wasn't suffering through all of this for nothing. "I'll never forget the night I got it," she said as she clasped her choker back in place. "It was _amazing_. He did things to me I _know_ no human man would ever be capable of. What I wouldn't give to see him again." She sighed, hoping it sounded dreamy when she still felt bile rising in her throat. "His name was Angel."

"Angel's _real_?" Byron asked. "I've heard stories about him, but…"

"He's real," Anne confirmed. "And he's so sexy with his pensive eyes and long, dark coat." She sighed again, then tried to swallow the bile back down.

"Have a drink with me," Louis offered, pushing one of the women away and ignoring her protest. "Tell me more about your interest in becoming a member of this fine establishment."

Anne smiled and slid into the seat beside Louis.

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It was near morning before Anne got back home, and she was glad she didn't have any early work to do in the shelter. She was relieved to see Cordelia asleep when she got in, afraid that her absence would've disturbed her guest enough to keep her up—or worse yet, drive her to go out and look for her.

As mush as she wanted to simply fall into bed, Anne had to take a hot shower first, desperate to wash the night from her body. She hoped her plan actually did her some good so it would've have been all for nothing.

The best way Anne knew to get any sort of message out to Angel was through gossip and word of mouth, and since she wasn't about to start hanging out with _actual_ vampires, she had decided to go as close as she could get. All she could do now was keep her fingers crossed it would get out enough that a vampire groupie was claiming to have spent a night with Angel and wanted to see him again. She had a feeling that the story would be an obvious falsehood to Angel himself, and she hoped it would be enough to pique his interest—or at least get him paranoid enough to seek her out and find out what was behind the story.

Anne knew it was a slim chance—but she'd take any chance she could get right now.

She stopped by the living room on her way back to the bedroom, watching Cordelia for a moment as she slept. "I'll help you find your way home again," she promised in a whisper before she walked away.

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After a week and a half of spending as much time at the Lancet as she could, Anne was starting to think this end was deader than she'd even thought. She was tired of pretending to want to fit in with these people, tired of having them all fawn over her and her bite mark that she just wanted to go back to covering up with make-up as best she could.

She'd almost given up, conceded that she'd been foolish to think such a plan would work in the first place. She was ready to call it a bust, leave the club, and never return.

And then, she saw him.

He was hidden in the shadows, blending in with the darkness just enough to make Anne shudder. But she saw him, a glimpse of his features, a swirl of his coat, and her heart leapt with joy and relief. It _had_ worked. Somehow, she'd managed to actually pull of her half-baked, insane plan. All she could think was someone up there must've been looking out for her.

She moved slowly through the crowd, resisting any urges to run as fast as she could to him and then jump up and down with the joy of success. That would only draw the sort of attention she didn't particularly want.

Angel looked down at her when she reached him, one dark eyebrow arched. "Are you the one I supposedly…" He stopped, and Anne knew the moment he recognized her. "Wait… _Anne_? What the…"

"I needed your attention," Anne said. "Come on, let's get out of here, and I'll explain."

Angel nodded, his curiosity peeked even more now when he'd first heard the rumors of his supposed admirer. He'd expected to find either a crazed groupie or a trap, not a former acquaintance he'd thought more than happy to never see him again.

Given their history and Anne's anger with him over him using her to get back at Wolfram and Hart, maybe it was a trap…

Still, he jerked his head towards the back entrance. "Through here. It's how I came in, and we'll draw less attention that way."

Anne followed him without protest, though when they walked out into the back alley, Angel saw her wrap her arms around herself tightly, and could sense the fear rolling off of her, even as she tried to contain it. "Why are you afraid?" he asked her tersely.

"Because I'm alone in an alley with a vampire," Anne snapped.

"Funny attitude for someone who runs with that crowd in there," Angel said, gesturing to the club.

"They aren't my crowd," Anne replied. "Not anymore—not for a long time. I was only there because I was desperate to get a message out to you, and I couldn't find any other way. I know you know Charles Gunn, and I tried calling him, but…"

"Gunn's dead."

Anne froze, her face paling as her hand went to her mouth. "No… When? How?"

"A couple of weeks ago, in a battle," Angel replied. He winced as he spoke, the pain of the night he'd lost everything he'd had left still weighing heavily on him.

"At least he went down fighting," Anne said, her eyes downcast. "He always said he wanted to make some noise when he went out."

"He did that," Angel told her somberly. After a moment of silence, he asked, "Is that why you were seeking me out? To get a message to Gunn?"

"No," Anne answered, shaking her head. "It's Cordelia."

If thinking about Gunn now had been difficult, hearing Cordelia's name all but tore out his unbeating heart. "Anne, Cordelia's dead, too."

Anne looked up at Angel sharply. "No she isn't. She's fine. Well, okay, she's a _little_ off, but she isn't dead. That's why I was looking for you. See, she's…"

"Where is she?" Angel asked quickly, the need to see for himself if what Anne was claiming was true. Cordelia was back? It was too much to even hope for, and yet as soon as Anne had spoken those words, the hope had jumped in him.

"She's back at my place—above the shelter," Anne said. "I had part of the upstairs converted into a small apartment so I could always be there if the kids needed me."

"Let's go. Now."

"My car's right over here."

"Drive quickly."

Neither Anne nor Angel spoke again until they were standing outside of Anne's door. "You're going to have to invite me in," Angel told her. "If you live here, I can't get in without an invitation."

Anne paused with her keys in her hands. Gunn had explained to her once about Angel's curse, but in her eyes, he was still a vampire—and she'd learned her lesson about trusting vampires. But in this case, she supposed she could make an exception, for Cordelia's sake at least.

"You're invited in," Anne said. "Is that enough, or am I supposed to say something special?"

"That's enough," Angel replied. "Just open the door." He knew he was being overly gruff, but he didn't care. As soon as they'd walked into the shelter, he'd caught Cordelia's scent, and the hope inside of him had grown. Now, her scent was stronger—coming from just beyond the door—and Angel could hear the steady beat of her heart as well.

Cordelia was here. Cordelia was _alive_.

The door swung open, and Angel's eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones he knew he could never forget.

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If you're reading this, please review. It gets hits, but no one says anything, and it doesn't really make me want to continue. Honestly, the response to the last chapter was so lackluster, I forgot I was even working on this one. So if you want it to continue, say something…anything.


	5. Chapter Four

Cordelia hadn't had a vision yet that evening, and she tried to decide if she should leave anyway and see what she could find on her own. Anne wasn't home, but she'd been out late several times over the past few days, and Cordelia didn't question it. For all she knew, Anne had told her where she was going, and it was one of the things she didn't fully understand. Even as words began to make more sense to her, she still didn't comprehend everything that was said, nor had she started trying to really speak to anyone. It seemed like too much effort these days.

Suddenly, Cordelia froze, her back stiffening. Someone was out in the hall, and her body began to tingle like it did when she had found her prey, only something was different. This time, it didn't make her feel ready for a fight. She rose up from the couch, facing the door as she heard the key in the lock, and waited.

When the door opened, Cordelia gasped at the sight of the man standing beside Anne. She couldn't remember how she knew him or what place he'd held in her life, but Cordelia knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who she was looking at now. "Angel," she said softly, her word barely above a whisper.

Angel came across the room and to her so quickly Cordelia barely had time to register he'd moved, and his arms wrapped around her, squeezing her tightly. Cordelia returned his embrace, feeling a sort of peace she hadn't known in as long as she could actually remember wash over her.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Angel said, his mouth against her hair. "They told me you were gone." He pulled back enough to look at her face, though he kept his arms tightly around her, as if he were afraid she'd disappear. "What happened? How are you here?"

"She hasn't been talking," Anne said, coming up near Angel and Cordelia but still keeping her distance, not wanting to feel too much like an intruder on what should've been a private moment. It was clear from Angel's reaction to seeing her again exactly what Cordelia meant to him.

Angel looked sharply at Anne. "She hasn't been talking? Cordelia's always talking…"

"She doesn't seem to really remember who she is—or anything, I don't think. She was really shaken up when I found her."

"Where did you find her?" Angel asked.

"In an alley. All she had was a lab coat, and she seemed really disoriented." Anne looked up and met Angel's eyes. "I don't know what happened to her, but she was only a few blocks away from Wolfram and Hart—and it was the night the building collapsed."

Angel turned from Anne and gazed back down at Cordelia. Had Cordelia been inside of Wolfram and Hart this whole time—and if so, how had he not known it? He was supposed to have been in charge, after all. But then again, he'd had a feeling they were playing him from the beginning, and telling him one of his friends was dead when she was indeed still there having who knows what happening to her was just the sort of thing they'd do.

But what about his last visit from her? From the way that had ended, Cordelia had seemed aware of the fact she was actually dead. If she was really just about to wake up, why all of that, even if she'd known Wolfram and Hart was going to keep her? Wouldn't she have tried to warn him of that?

None of it made any sense to Angel. He couldn't figure out what Wolfram and Hart would've been doing with Cordelia, why they would've led him to believe she was dead when really, they'd already had access to her when she was in a coma, or why Cordelia was suddenly without memories—again. He couldn't help but think of the last time she'd been without her memory, and Angel hoped this wasn't a repeat or past horrors. Then, however, Cordelia had been able to remember some things, just nothing about herself personally. If what Anne was saying was true, then the memory loss this time went much deeper.

"She remembered you," Anne said, pulling Angel's thoughts back to the present. "I don't know if she remembers details or anything, but she said your name shortly after she got here. That's why I was trying to find you. And she seemed like she knew who you were when you came in, too."

Angel brushed his hand across Cordelia's cheek, smiling back at her as she smiled at him. "Yeah, she did. I guess that's a good sign. Do you know who I am, Cordy?"

His question made more sense to her than almost anything else Cordelia had heard in the past couple of weeks. As soon as Angel had touched her, she'd felt better, like maybe things could be okay again. "Angel," she replied, cupping his cheek with her hand. "You're…you're my Angel."

Her response made Angel suddenly choked with emotion, the gravity of the situation hitting him fully. He was looking down at a face he'd never thought he'd see outside of his dreams ever again… He pulled her back against him, breathing in her scent as he did. He wanted more than anything for this to be real, for him to truly be getting Cordelia back. He'd already lost so much… Couldn't the Powers just let him have this?

Cordelia wrapped her arms back around Angel as he pulled her to him again. Even without being able to remember exactly who he was, she knew they'd been apart for a while—longer than she had wanted—and being with him again filled her with happiness.

_She loved him…_

Cordelia looked up, meeting Angel's eyes as that revelation came to her. She couldn't remember her life with this man, but she knew all the same that she had indeed loved him. But had he loved her as well? The way he'd reacted to seeing her again would lead Cordelia to think he did, but without any clear memories, she couldn't give whatever sort of relationship they'd had a real name.

"I thought you could help her. Better than I could anyway," Anne said as Angel pulled slightly back from Cordelia. "She seems to be remembering little things, like words and maybe what she likes and what she doesn't, but I think most of her life is still a blur. I didn't know her well enough to help her remember who she was, but I thought maybe you would."

"I know her pretty well," Angel confirmed with a nod. "I still have most of her things, too."

"Maybe being in a familiar place would help her, too," Anne added. "Not that I'm saying you have to take her with you if you don't want to. I'd be happy to let her stay here as long as she needs to, but…"

"I can take her home," Angel replied, reaching down to tightly grasp Cordelia's hand.

"I think that'll be the best for her," Anne said, her hands fiddling with the material of her dress. "But can you let me know how she's doing?"

"You can come see her, if you'd like," Angel told Anne as he reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small, white card. "This is my address," he said as he handed her the card. "It's the Hyperion Hotel. Feel free to come by and see Cordy." Angel cleared his throat. "I really appreciate what you've done, Anne. I can't even begin to tell you what having Cordelia back means."

"I'm just glad I found her. And you, too. She needs more help than I can give her."

"I'll do everything I can for her," Angel said. Unable to stop the impulse, he leaned in and placed a kiss on top of Cordelia's head.

Anne watched the two of them and hoped this would indeed help Cordelia remember who she really was.

* * *

Cordelia sat in the passenger's side of Angel's car, her hand trailing over the interior as he drove. Sitting there gave her a slight sense of familiarity, yet she couldn't recall any specific time.

She looked over at Angel, taking a moment to observe him, to recommit his features to memory. It had felt a little strange to leave Anne's so quickly, but at the same time, Cordelia didn't feel like she could possibly leave Angel's side now that she'd found him again. She'd also caught enough of the conversation when they were leaving to know Anne planned to visit her wherever it was Angel was taking her.

Cordelia could only hope that place would feel like home.

When Angel brought the car to a stop, Cordelia looked up at the building they were parked in front of and gasped. _She knew this place… _She knew it the same way she'd known Angel, deep down inside, as if it were a part of her.

"This is home, Cordy," Angel said, turning off the car and as he look over at Cordelia. "It's the hotel—the Hyperion. Do you remember it?"

Cordelia cleared her throat, still not used to talking anymore. But she'd understood what Angel asked her, and she wanted to respond. "A little."

Angel smiled at her, then reached over and squeezed her hand. "Let's go inside and see if you remember more, okay?"

"Okay."

Angel led her from the car into the building, letting Cordelia walk slowly, taking the time to observe everything around her. He kept glancing at her face, hoping to find traces of recognition there.

Cordelia stopped at the front door, her hand tracing the woodwork for a moment before she grasped the handle and pushed the door open. She stepped inside, Angel close behind, and walked into the lobby, coming to a standstill at the bottom of the steps.

She knew immediately, without any doubts, she had been there before. From the way she felt now, she'd say many times before. Slowly, she walked around the room, her hands grazing the walls, the furniture, wishing that maybe she could stimulate her memory through touch.

The room seemed too empty now, like a hollow shell. She walked behind the counter, noticing the way dust piled up on the books and papers she found there, as if whoever had been there last had simply left everything how it had been in the moment they walked away.

From there, she found the office, the small room seeming as untouched as the rest of the lobby. She ran her fingers along the edge of the desk, something seeming to tingle her memory. A man, slightly built with bright eyes behind wire frame glasses. He had sat behind that desk…

"This was my office, then it was Wesley's, then mine again. Do you remember anything from in here?"

Cordelia turned sharply, unaware that Angel had followed her in. "Wesley?"

"Do you remember Wes?"

"Maybe," Cordelia replied. Was he the man she was thinking of now? "Picture?"

"Yeah. There's one out here. Just a minute." Angel went over to what had been Cordelia's desk and grabbed the picture she had there from back when it had been just the three of them and brought it to Cordelia. "Here. This is Wesley."

Cordelia took the picture from Angel and ran her fingers over the glass. "I remember his face," she said softly. "Where is he?"

Angel looked away, wincing as he spoke. "He's dead. I…I don't know if you remember them, but Fred and Gunn are dead, too."

She did remember the names, especially now as she stood in this place. She remembered Anne talking about Gunn as well, trying to get in touch with him because he'd been a mutual friend. "All dead?" Cordelia asked softly, Angel's revelation filling her with pain even as she struggled to recall the people she'd known had once been her friends.

"Things got hairy for a while—really bad. They weren't able to make it through."

Cordelia looked down at the picture again, then back at Angel. She knew at some point, they'd been part of a team. And now… "It's only us left?"

A lump formed in Angel's throat. He hated to have to tell her this, even when he knew she couldn't fully understand the gravity of it all with her memories gone. "Yes. It's only us."

"I'm tired," Cordelia said, tightening her grip around the frame.

"Yeah, it is late. Come on, I'll show you your room. Your things are in there. I…I kept them. Maybe they'll help you remember."

Cordelia nodded. "Okay." She reached down and took Angel's hand, letting him lead her upstairs.

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	6. Chapter Five

Cordelia didn't go through any of the things Angel had told her were hers before she went to bed, but when she woke up the next morning, the temptation was too strong not to see what was there. Some of her clothes were in the closet and a few items were on the nightstand, but for the most part, it was all in boxes.

She started with the boxes, opening the first one and carefully going through things, hoping she'd find the key to jogging her memory. Much of it, however, seemed completely foreign to her, and it was strange to think of the things in those boxes as being the accumulation of her life.

Pictures seemed to afford her the most luck, the faces printed there still etched somewhere in her mind as well. She sat on the edge of the bed, flipping through a handful, remembering names, places, as well of snippets of events as she looked at the snapshots left behind.

While the memories were still hazy, she could remember the people she'd cared about. Wesley, Gunn, Fred—they'd been more than friends. They'd been her _family_.

And they were all dead.

She could almost feel her heart break when the meaning behind what Angel had told her the night before fully hit her with a great, painful twisting in her chest. She dropped the photographs to the ground and buried her face in her hands, sobbing with the weight of the loss.

Cordelia didn't know how long she'd been there before she felt Angel beside her, his arms wrapping around her to pull her close. She turned without hesitation into his embrace and pressed her face against his chest, welcoming his comfort.

Finally, Cordelia pulled away, wiping her eyes, even though she was still crying softly. "I don't really remember like I think I should, but…"

"It still hurts to know you've lost them?" Angel finished for her.

"Yeah."

Cordelia looked at Angel, and the pain he saw in her eyes cut him deeply. The last year brought him nothing good, and had cost him more than he'd been willing to pay. Now Cordelia was suffering because of his mistakes, his failures.

"Angel…what…" Cordelia paused for a moment, as if she was struggling to push her thoughts into words. "What were we?"

"I don't understand what you're asking," Angel replied, his brow furrowing.

"We were in love," Cordelia said, trying to clarify.

"That's not a question, is it?"

"No. I…I know we were, I just..."

Angel smiled softly and stroked her cheek, the certainty she felt where their feelings for each other were concerned doing much to assure him that this time was not like the last one. This time, it wasn't a question—she knew enough of herself to remember what she had felt for him. "You want to know if we were together—a couple?" Angel asked her.

Cordelia nodded. "Yes."

His smile faded and his hand dropped away from her. "No. We never were. But you're right, we were in love."

"How long ago?"

Angel thought about her question for a moment. How long had it been since he'd truly seen Cordelia, her short visit when he'd still been CEO of Wolfram and Hart notwithstanding? Had the woman who had come back from the Higher Realms _ever_ been Cordelia, or was she no more than a puppet the entire time?

"About two years," Angel answered.

Cordelia's eyes widened, the time frame Angel had given her longer than she'd expected. "That's a long…" She stopped, swallowing hard before she said, "Angel, tell me who I was."

He didn't know how to tell her what they'd been to each other, so he answered her request the best way he could. Angel started at the beginning, telling her what he remembered of her from Sunnydale all the way up to her visit with him the day he'd thought she'd died. When something confused her, he'd stop, speak more clearly or reword it until she understood.

Things he told her triggered little bits of memories in Cordelia's mind, letting her know that her life was still there somewhere in her mind, only buried beneath the surface.

At some point during Angel's long answer to her question, they'd both ended up lying down on the bed, on their sides, facing each other but with a small distance between them. Occasionally, Angel would take her hand or wipe away her tears if something he told her was too much.

Cordelia couldn't deny the intimacy between them, the knowledge that this man was not a stranger acute even with the holes in her memory. His face seemed more familiar to hers than her own.

Even when he admitted to her that he was a vampire, she didn't flinch, didn't pull away from him. Somehow she knew he wasn't the threat the vampires she'd fought over the past couple of weeks had been, even before he explained to her about his soul. She wasn't sure if it was because of something in her lost memories standing out or because the tingles she got on the back of her neck whenever he was around were different to the ones she'd felt with other vampires, but his admission hadn't even come as much of a shock.

When Angel finally told her everything he had to tell, Cordelia closed her eyes, a deep, shuddering breath passing through her. The end had been the hardest for her to listen to, as well as the part that seemed least familiar. None of what Angel told her about the time leading up to the appearance of "Jasmine" rang any bells in her mind at all, and she was inclined to agree with his thoughts that it may have not been her at all—at least as far as her conscious mind was concerned.

But what did it all mean for her now? How had she gotten from a hospital bed in a coma—and supposedly dead—to wherever it was she'd been when she'd woken up two weeks earlier? Furthermore, why was she the way she was now? Why were her memories just out of reach? What had happened to her to bring her to this state?

"I'm still lost," she whispered.

"I know," Angel replied. He hesitated for a moment before closing the gap between them and bringing Cordelia into his arms. She settled against his chest, the comfort of his embrace soothing the ache hearing the story of who she'd been had caused.

They stayed like that, silent for a long while, until Cordelia's stomach rumbled, and she blushed at the sound. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You do have to eat." Angel pulled back so he could look down at her face. "I don't have any food here except, well, blood, and I don't think you'd want to eat that."

Cordelia's nose wrinkled. "Not really."

"There's a Chinese food place nearby that delivers you always liked. I could order you something from there."

"Okay. Do you remember what food I liked there?"

"I do," Angel told her. "Do you want to come downstairs, or…"

"I'll come downstairs," Cordelia said, not wanting to be apart from Angel now. He felt like her only solid link to who she was, and she didn't want to let go.

They got off the bed and walked to the door, a moment of hesitation between them for a moment before Angel reached down and took her hand.

* * *

"You did remember what I like," Cordelia said to Angel as she finished her food. She smiled warmly at him. "Thank you."

Angel shrugged. "I have a good memory."

"That makes one of us," Cordelia replied. "Still, it was sweet of you to get something you knew I'd enjoy. You've been… Thank you, for helping me."

"I couldn't _not_ help you, Cordy," Angel said. "You mean more to me than…" He stopped, letting the unfinished sentiment fall between them.

"I feel comfortable here," she told him. "I know this place."

"You don't ever have to leave it—if you don't want to."

His offer pulled Cordelia to meet his eyes. "What…" She stopped for a moment, frowning as she tried to form her question. "What would we be if I stayed?"

"Friends," Angel replied, though an almost imperceptible flash of pain went across his face as he said it. "I don't think I can have anything else with you."

"Do you not want to?"

"I want to. I _really_ want to. You're… Well, what man wouldn't want you, breathing or not?" Angel smiled for a moment before it faded. "My love life—it's complicated. I'm not sure it would be safe for you to be a part of it. Besides, you're working to get your memories back, and a relationship could only confuse everything even more."

Cordelia looked down, her eyes fixated on an imagined spot in front of her. "I don't remember a lot, that's true, though it does feel like my memories are coming back, especially since I've been here. But I have no doubt about my feelings for you, whether I can remember specific moments we spent together or not." Her eyes came back up to lock with Angel's. "Your name was familiar to me before even my own was. When Anne first found me and everything seemed completely lost, I could still close my eyes and see yours. There's something… There's something strong between us."

"I know," Angel admitted. "That's why we can't be together. I can't be happy."

Cordelia's brow knitted, his declaration that he couldn't be happy triggering something in her memory, though she couldn't quite access it. "Why can't you be happy?"

"My soul comes with a curse," Angel explained. "If I experience a moment of true happiness, I lose the soul. The only time this happened without some sort of extra magical intervention was when I was in a relationship and it got…physical."

"So you can't ever have sex?" Cordelia asked, her nose wrinkling.

"I can. I have," Angel replied. "But after what happened before, with her, I'm cautious about it, and there's just too much risk involved when it comes to a woman who really means something to me. If I gave in to what I want with you, Cordy, I could end up hurting you, and that's something that's always held me back. I love you, and being with you, well, it would make me really happy. I can't take the risk of that turning me…"

"Into Angelus," Cordelia finished for him.

Angel blinked. "You remember that?"

"Sort of." Cordelia frowned. "It's weird. It's like the memories are there, they're just all cloudy. Things have been clearing up, and it feels like the more I'm around you, the more normal I feel, but the bulk of my past is still all hazy. Like I'm seeing it all through heavy fog."

"You've been talking more since I brought you here," Angel pointed out.

"I feel more comfortable. I don't know if it's because I know you, or because there's just less going on and fewer people around than when I was helping Anne at the shelter. It all seemed a little overwhelming, and I was uncomfortable trying to talk, but now the more I talk to you, the easier it seems to become," Cordelia explained.

"Maybe it'll be the same way with your memories," Angel said, glad their conversation seemed to turn away from any possible romantic aspects of their relationship. It tore him apart inside to think he couldn't be with her, but the fear of what he could become if he let himself go with her kept him held back. He'd thought maybe at one point it could possibly be something they could risk, but he remembered the "perfect day" the shaman had given him to remove his soul the last time and the prominent role Cordelia had played there. Nothing frightened him more than the thought of reverting to Angelus and killing Cordelia because he couldn't control what he felt for her.

"I hope so," Cordelia replied. "I don't like this feeling of not remembering exactly who I am."

"Why don't we walk around the hotel for a bit," Angel suggested. "I can tell you things that happened in different places, and maybe being there again will jumpstart your memory."

"Sounds like as good an idea as any," Cordelia said with a shrug.

"Then let's get started."

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	7. Chapter Six

"Giant bug demons? Ew."

"They weren't the prettiest things I've ever fought, that's for sure," Angel replied, smiling at the way Cordelia's face wrinkled in disgust.

"Well, I think forgetting those things may have been on purpose," Cordelia said, shivering. "But what happened with them?"

"We thought we'd killed it—or that Fred's mother had anyway. She ran it over with a bus. But then its mate came looking for the babies…"

Cordelia held up her hand, stopping him for a moment. "Wait," she said, trying to concentrate. "I think I remember this. They…they were in a demon head."

"Yeah. It was right over there on the counter." Angel pointed to the spot.

"And then the head…it broke open or something?"

"Fred had made this device—some sort of axe-throwing thing. She figured out what was going on, came back to the hotel with it, and…"

"Launched the axe across the room and right into the demon's head so the big bug things could see its babies!" Cordelia announced excitedly, a smile bursting across her face. "I remember that!"

Angel smiled back, relief filling him at the thought of Cordelia returning to her old self. He hadn't been able to keep from worrying about her amnesia in light of how she'd returned to him right before everything had begin with the Beast and later Jasmine, but this seemed to be something else entirely, and it allowed him to feel a little more hope that perhaps he was really getting _his_ Cordy back.

"Tell me about something else," Cordelia said, her smile still bright as she reached down and took his hand. "I want to see if I can remember more."

Angel was more than happy to oblige.

* * *

They spent most of the day with Angel leading Cordelia around the hotel, telling her stories in an attempt to bring her past back into focus. Some of what he said brought back memories and some of it didn't, but Cordelia was happy simply remembering anything at all. She was starting to feel like herself again—and remembering who she was well enough to know what being herself felt like.

Yet as it started getting later, a restlessness set in. She hadn't had a vision in a few days now, and Cordelia tried to simply go to bed, but she couldn't find any sleep. Something was calling her out into the night, and while she had pieced together enough of her past to know fighting wasn't an uncommon thing for her to do, she knew this need for a fight she felt now was. She remembered she'd fought when she had to, but she'd never gone out night after night patrolling the streets for demons like she did now.

When she knew sleep wasn't coming anytime soon, Cordelia got out of bed with a resigned sigh and changed from her nightclothes into something more appropriate for fighting. She crept downstairs, glad Angel wasn't in the lobby as she didn't really feel like trying to explain to him why she needed to go out—especially since she didn't really understand it herself.

Cordelia stopped at the weapons cabinet, quietly opening the doors and taking out a couple of stakes and a small axe, tucking them into a bag she'd slung across her chest before closing the cabinet back and leaving the hotel.

She'd only gone a couple of blocks before her senses began to tingle, and she knew a vampire was close. Careful not to make a sound, she slipped her hand into her bag and drew a stake as she closed in on the vampire. She found it in an alley, its fangs just about to descend into the neck of a young woman around Cordelia's age.

Cordelia grabbed the vampire by the back of its collar and pulled it off the woman, throwing him against a dumpster. She afforded the other woman a quick look and a command of, "Run," before she turned her attention back to the vampire, her stake raised.

The woman didn't hesitate in fleeing the alley, and the vampire roared as he got to his feet, angry to see his meal getting away. Cordelia simply smiled as he charged her, then grabbed the vampire as he approached and drove her stake into his chest.

It was simple, as if staking a vampire was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. Yet now, as she began to remember who she'd been, the ease at which she fought began to unnerve her. Yes, she had training and practice, but this was something else entirely. She had strength and instincts she didn't think she'd possessed before.

Angel had told her earlier in the day of how she'd spent some time as a Higher Being and had also been, at least at one point, part demon. Was that why she could do these things? Did she have either some sort of Higher Power or demon strength? She sighed, knowing she didn't have the answers.

Her need for a fight seeming to be sated for now, Cordelia put her stake back into her pocket and returned to the Hyperion.

* * *

Cordelia woke the next morning before Angel and decided to go downstairs to the lobby. She knew at one point in her life, it had been normal for her to start her mornings there, and she wondered if she did that now if it could bring back some of what was lost.

She sat down at her old desk, her hands clasped together on top of it. Cordelia sat still and silent, waiting.

_Waiting for the ghosts to speak…_

Cordelia could remember in flashes, her mind holding on to moments. She closed her eyes, pulling what she could of her life back to the surface, remembering what things had been like before.

She let the ghosts wash over her, remembering those who had been here before. _Fred. Gunn. Wesley._

Her friends.

_Her family…_

She could see their faces, blurry in her fractured memory, but there. Smiling, laughing… _She could hear them laugh…_

But they were gone now, lost to the war they'd fought every day.

All she had left of them now were shadows.

"Cordelia? Are…are you okay?"

Cordy's eyes snapped open and she turned sharply, wiping at her tears. "Anne?" she asked, the blonde woman's presence into the hotel taking her by surprise.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm sorry I just barged in, but the front door wasn't locked, and I didn't know if I should, I don't know, knock or something? But I've been thinking about you and wondering if you were all right, and I wanted to come see for myself." Anne let out a deep breath. "And you probably don't even have any idea of what I'm saying."

Cordelia shook her head. "No, I do. I'm still… Well, I'm not quite as quick as I think I used to be, but I'm better off than I was when I left your place."

"So you're starting to remember more?" Anne asked.

"I am," Cordelia replied. "Being here, in familiar surroundings, it's been jogging my memory. Angel and I took a long stroll down memory lane yesterday." Cordy stood and walked around the counter to stand beside Anne. "Thank you, for finding him for me. For everything you did, really. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there for me."

"It was the least I could do," Anne said. "You saved my life once, you know."

Cordelia blinked. "I did?"

"Yeah, you did," Anne replied with a nod. "There were zombies. You got one off of me."

"Oh. Well, go me then," Cordelia said. "I don't remember that. Some things are still a little hazy, even with my memory seeming to be coming back. I don't know what's going on with it."

"Maybe you were in shock," Anne suggested. "I mean, when I found you, you seemed like you'd gone through something traumatic. And you were…really cold. It was late May in Los Angeles, and your skin was so chilled. Like you'd just come in from the snow. Maybe whatever happened to you sent your body into some sort of shock, like it wasn't able to process it all."

Cordelia was silent for a moment as she thought about Anne's theory. As her memories had begun to return enough for her to really ponder what had made her lose them in the first place, her immediate thought had been it was something mystical. From the bits of her past she could remember, it seemed as if everything that happened to her was somehow mystical. But Anne had a point—it could've been something as normal as some sort of post-traumatic shock.

Which could also explain why her memories seemed to be trickling back now. She'd felt more comfortable at the Hyperion than she had since Anne had found her, and perhaps that sense of being _home_ was allowing her mental blocks to fall.

Still, whether it be mystical or simple physical trauma, Cordelia couldn't remember how she'd ended up wherever she was when she first woke. Her memories were returning, yet she had the feeling all of them were older memories. Nothing was coming back to her from the past couple of years at all. It was as if they'd simply never happened.

She decided she'd ask Angel specifically about that span of time later. He'd been able to fill in the other blanks for her, so she was sure he'd be able to jog her memory there, too, and it wouldn't be a problem.

For now, she wanted to try to start living her life again, pick up the pieces she'd been left and try to rediscover what was "normal" for her. Her memories were returning, and she was certain she'd have all the pieces back in time. What she needed to do now was try to figure out how to be who she was now when so much of what she _did_ remember was gone.

"Do you want to go out and get something to eat?" Cordelia asked. "I feel like I've spent a lot of time inside, and it might be nice to just go out and do something."

"Will you be okay doing that?" Anne asked. "It won't be too much for you?"

"I'll be fine," Cordelia insisted. "I remember how to use a fork, so I promise I won't embarrass you in a restaurant."

Anne chuckled. "All right. I'm just surprised to see you doing so much better. You're like a different person than you were when you were staying with me."

"It's this place," Cordelia replied, gesturing to the hotel around her. "It's _home_, and ever since I've come here, it's like the fog that was over my memories has been lifting. It's strange, but it's like when I'm here, I remember what it feels like to be me."

"And Angel? Does he have something to do with you remembering what it's like to be you?" Anne asked.

Anne could've sworn she saw a slight blush on Cordelia's cheeks at the question. "Yeah, he does. Angel…he was my best friend. He knew me better than anyone else, so who better to tell me who I am?"

"I never realized before you two were so close. Not that I really knew either of you all that well, but when I saw both of you, it wasn't together."

"Oh, he was going through one of his phases," Cordelia said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Angel goes into super-brood mode sometimes—usually because of some little blonde woman—and generally acts like a total dick. He fired all of us so he could be alone with his Darla obsession, until finally he hit the bottom so hard he slept with her, and…" Cordelia trailed off as a bright smile broke over her face. "Oh my god!"

"What?" Anne asked, frowning in concern.

"I just remembered that! Like all of it came rushing back—and it's not even any of the stuff Angel told me to get my memory back, because lord knows he'd rather all of that just stayed forgotten."

"So your memory really is clearing itself up again?" Anne replied.

"It looks like it is. Which I think is a definite sign we should go out for a bit. Celebrate me starting to feel like me again." Cordelia grinned.

"Okay," Anne replied, secretly grateful to be leaving. Something about the Hyperion creeped her out… It could've been that it felt too empty for such a big place.

Or it could've been the collection of sharp, nasty-looking weapons her eyes had been repeatedly drawn to since she'd walked in.

"Great. Let me just leave a note for Angel in case he wakes up, and then we can go."

* * *

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	8. Chapter Seven

As soon as Cordelia walked back into the Hyperion after lunch, Angel rushed her, grabbing hold of her arms as if to assure himself she was there as he began talking in a rush that even Cordelia's battered memory could tell her was strange for him. "Cordy? Where were you? I was panicking not knowing where you were, especially since it's the middle of the day, so I couldn't go looking for you, and…"

Cordelia pulled back from Angel, breaking the hold he'd had on her arms. "Geez, Angel, chill. I went to lunch with Anne. I left a note on the desk."

Angel went over to the desk and picked up a piece of paper, reading it with a sheepish expression. "Oh. I didn't see that." He looked up at the blonde woman now standing beside Cordelia. "And hi, Anne. I didn't see you either."

"Hi," Anne replied, keeping her distance from Angel. Her body language made it clear she still didn't trust him, and Angel couldn't begrudge her that. Were he in her place, he'd probably feel the same way, given their history.

"I wasn't even gone that long, you know," Cordelia said. "Not long enough to panic."

"I know, but…" Angel sighed. He lowered his voice, glancing quickly over at Anne before he spoke, keenly aware he wasn't alone with Cordy. "I lost you once. I keep expecting you to disappear again."

Cordelia softened as her hand reached out to cup Angel's cheek. "I won't."

"You can't know that. The Powers, they…"

"I do, Angel," Cordelia told him softly. "I'm here now."

Anne shifted uncomfortably as the tone between the two brunettes seemed to change and she felt as if she were intruding on a moment. Cordelia had told her at lunch that she and Angel weren't a couple and never truly had been, but the chemistry between them was obvious.

"I should be getting back to the shelter," Anne said, taking another step away from the other two. "Lunch was nice, Cordy. It's good to see you doing better."

Cordelia's hand dropped away from Angel as she turned to look at Anne. "Oh, okay. We need to get together again sometime. Call me?"

"Of course," Anne replied with a smile. "I'll talk to you later."

After she'd said her good-byes with Anne, Cordelia turned her attention back to Angel, a silence falling over the Hyperion. Finally, Cordelia spoke, asking him a question she wasn't sure she really wanted to know the answer to.

"Did I disappear once?"

Angel looked at her sharply. "What?"

"You said you keep expecting me to 'disappear again.' Did…did I just disappear before? Angel, what happened to me? Why wasn't I with you anymore?"

"What's the last thing you can really remember?" Angel asked her, his hands crossed over his chest.

"God, I don't know. Everything's pretty jumbled. Let me think." She sat down on the round couch in the middle of the lobby, her chin resting in her hands. For several minutes, she was silent, her brow creased in concentration.

"I…I remember calling you," she said slowly, trying to pull the memories to the surface. "Groo…Groo had left. He told me he couldn't be with me if I was in love with you, and first I said that was crazy because I wasn't, but then I realized I was. So I called you, and I was going to tell you at the Bluffs, only I…I never made it? Everything after that is hazy, and some of it just isn't there. I think that was a couple of years ago, but what should be there isn't. It's not like the fog over my other memories, it's…" Cordelia dropped her hands and looked at Angel with a frightened expression on her face. "There's nothing there at all. It's like I just…stopped existing. Where was I? Was I here?"

"I'm not sure," Angel replied as he came and sat down beside her. "Do you remember Jasmine?"

Cordelia frowned in confusion. "Jasmine? The princess in _Aladdin_?"

"The what?" Angel asked, his own expression mirroring Cordelia's now. "No, the hellgod. She showed up about a year ago, tried to take over the world. Ringing any bells at all?"

"No. I told you, there's nothing from the past couple of years at all. What happened?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Angel asked. "It was pretty intense."

"Angel, if it was some part of my life that I'm not missing, I need to know," Cordelia insisted. "There hasn't been a lot in my life—at least since I met you—that couldn't be classified as 'intense.'"

"I know, but this is worse." At Cordelia's response of a quirked eyebrow, Angel sighed. "Okay, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you. What you remember, about calling me and asking you to meet you at the Bluffs, that happened. And no, you didn't make it. Only neither did I, but that's a story for another time. You had this demon guide…"

"Skip," Cordelia interjected. "I remember Skip. I met him…on my birthday. When my head was about to explode. He made me part demon." As she remembered her semi-demon status, Cordelia wondered if that was why she was able to fight the way she had been, but decided to file it away to contemplate later. "And…and that night!" Her eyes widened, the other pieces of what had happened coming back to her. "I met him that night. He froze everything and then told me I was supposed to be a Higher Being. I told him I didn't want to go because I wanted to see you first, but he said I had to leave, and I did. I remember that. There was a bright light, and I rose up into the sky, and then…nothing. There's nothing after that, not until the night Anne found me."

"Skip was working for the hellgod we called Jasmine," Angel explained. "Honestly, a lot of it still makes no sense to me, but from what I gathered, he chose you to carry Jasmine back to this plane. You were gone for the summer, and I was able to locate you in the Higher Realms, but you came back suddenly. I never knew how. Only when you did come back, well, you had amnesia."

Cordelia's eyebrow quirked. "I'm noticing a theme."

"Yeah, me, too, which had me a little worried," Angel admitted. "Only you seem different now. For one thing, you remembered everything except personal details about your life then. And your memories didn't come back on their own. Lorne did a spell. It didn't exactly go as planned, but in the end, you had your memories back."

"So why aren't I remembering any of this now?" Cordelia asked. "Why is that time missing from my memory completely?"

"I'm not sure it was you. From what I gathered from Skip, Jasmine had taken you over. It was your body, but you weren't in control. Maybe your consciousness was completely buried by hers. You did people, er…_things_." Angel coughed, wishing he could bury one memory of his own in particular. "You did things that I don't think you ever would've done."

"Bad things?" Cordelia asked, her eyes wide with horror.

"Yeah. You, it, her, whatever stole my soul and let Angelus loose for one thing. There were some other things, too."

Cordelia flinched, then looked down. "I…wow…"

"Hey, I don't think it was you, Cordy," Angel said softly, his hand moving to rest gently on Cordelia's leg. "Even Skip said you weren't really 'driving.' Jasmine or whoever exactly was in you when you came down from wherever you really were was in control. If none of that stuff is even in your memory, then, I really don't think it was you. It was just your body, not your mind."

"Yeah, but my body is still me, Angel. To think about someone wearing my skin running around and hurting people, I just…" Cordelia trailed off as he eyes grew wide. "Wait, you said I made you lose your soul? We didn't…"

"No!" Angel said quickly. "We never…" He coughed. "Well, not really. This shaman was actually who took my soul, and he created an elaborate hallucination where I thought we did, but we didn't really."

"So you just had fake sex with me?" Cordelia asked.

"Yeah, but it wasn't real. I mean, really, it's not any different than any of the times I've dreamt…" Angel trailed off as he realized what he'd just admitted to.

Cordelia blushed a looked down. "We can move along from this topic."

"Yeah, I'm liking that idea."

"So this Jasmine took over my body, and then what? You said that was a year ago. Did I run off and you haven't seen me since?"

"No," Angel replied, shaking his head. "Jasmine used you to give birth to herself—and yeah, before you ask, that really is as freaky as it sounds. After that, you fell into a coma, and you stayed there until a few months ago. You were in the hospital, and I got a call one day saying you were awake. I brought you back, we spent a day together, and then you told me you had to go because your path was different from mine. After that…" Angel had to stop for a moment, the memory still hard for him, even now that he had Cordelia sitting beside him. "The hospital called and told me you were dead."

Cordelia was silent for several moments before she finally said, "Okay, I don't remember the last two years because I had my body hijacked by a hellgod, then fell into a coma, and then died?"

"To sum it all up, yeah."

She let out a deep breath. "Wow. Maybe not having those memories really is for the best."

"Cordy, what happened the night Anne found you? She said she you were in an alley somewhere around Wolfram and Hart, but I don't know what…"

Suddenly, Cordelia's eyes grew wide. "Wolfram and Hart! Angel, that's where I was when I woke up! I was too out of it to realize it then, but looking back, that's where I was. Did the building collapse that night?"

"Yeah, it did," Angel said. "I, um, sort of pissed the Senior Partners off."

"I woke up in this lab there," Cordelia said. "I was in like…a refrigerator thing?"

"I think I might know what you're talking about," Angel said, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he pictured Cordelia in that sort of situation. "When Lindsey got his evil hand, we tracked down a place Wolfram and Hart used for body part storage. They had a secret lab where they kept people in some sort of stasis and farmed their body parts to use in other people."

A look of pure disgust crossed Cordelia's face. "Is that why they kept me? To sell my body parts. Or maybe my eyes… They were after my eyes that one time because of the whole seer thing." She shivered.

"I wish I could give you an answer, but I can't. I didn't know anything about a lab set up for anything like that, so I really don't know what was going on."

"Why would you know anything about a lab Wolfram and Hart set up?" Cordelia asked. "It's not like they sent us regular memos about their dastardly plans."

"Well, that's sort of the thing," Angel said with a sheepish look. "This past year, I was the C.E.O."

Cordelia gaped. "What? You…they're _evil_, Angel!"

"I know, but after everything went down with Jasmine, they made me an offer. They told me they were leaving Los Angeles and conceding the territory to me, and I could use facilities and manpower."

"And you just _agreed_ to that? Are you a complete idiot?"

"There were factors, Cordelia," Angel tried to explain with a heavy sigh. "And it was a good offer. I was in charge, and I could use their own system against them."

"But obviously you weren't! Angel, if Wolfram and Hart was involved, they were tricking you. They had me sedated in a fridge, so you weren't as in charge as you thought you were. They were playing you—they made you part of them."

"No, they didn't," Angel insisted. "I bested them in the end, Cordy. I was able to take down the Circle of the Black Thorn, a group comprised of the most powerful of the evil. I was able to do something good."

"That's how Wes, Gunn, and Fred died, isn't it? It happened after you started working for Wolfram and Hart."

"They agreed to go in, too. We all knew the risks."

"And you let them take them!" Cordelia yelled as she pushed Angel's hand off her leg and got to her feet. "I can't believe… You're supposed to be a Champion, Angel! Champions don't make deals with evil, no matter what the costs!"

"Cordelia, wait…" Angel said, reaching out for her. "There was so much going on. Just let me explain."

"I can't…" Cordelia replied, backing away as tears formed in her eyes. "I don't know…" She stopped in mid-sentence, then turned and fled the hotel, disappearing into the sunlight where Angel couldn't follow.

* * *

Sorry I didn't update last week. I just got a promotion at work, and I haven't had much time to write. I'll try to update when I can, and hopefully, I can still keep it fairly regular.

Please review!


	9. Chapter Eight

Cordelia hadn't given much thought to where she was actually going to go when she ran out of the Hyperion. All she knew was she needed space, needed room to breathe.

Much of her memory was still a jumbled mess, but she knew without a doubt Wolfram and Hart was evil. Every memory she still possessed made that abundantly clear. She also remembered the way they'd focused so much of their energies on Angel, doing everything they could to bend him to their will, to make him revert to his evil incarnation.

So what did it mean that Angel had actually formed a deal with Wolfram and Hart? Had they succeeded in corrupting him? And if so, who was he now?

Cordelia didn't think he was Angelus. Her memories weren't completely clear concerning the vampire's soulless version, but she remembered enough to know he wouldn't have treated her the way he had if he were Angelus. He also wasn't wearing leather pants, and while she couldn't seem to recall why her brain would think that was an important detail, she was positive it was.

She stopped and stepped out of the middle of the sidewalk, leaning against a building to take a moment to rest. Just when she'd thought things were getting back to normal, everything had been turned on its head again. Cordelia knew she could go back and ask Angel for more details, have him explain the deal with Wolfram and Hart until it somehow made sense to her, but as things stood, she wasn't even sure if she could trust him. Everything was too jumbled and confusing for her to trust anyone or anything.

_Not even herself… Not after what Angel had told her about Jasmine._

How could she even be certain she wasn't harboring some evil inside of her now? She had been at the mercy of Wolfram and Hart for at least a year. They could've done something to her, made her into something else.

Cordelia gasped, her hand going to her mouth as cold fear gripped her. These new powers of hers, her strength—was it something Wolfram and Hart had done to her? Had they spent the past year transforming her into some sort of superhuman killing machine?

The very thought made her stomach roll. She'd seen first hand the sorts of things Wolfram and Hart used their people for. Did they have some sort of ultimate goal in mind for her, a way to use her in one of their evil schemes? And what if they were still planning on carrying it out? Sure, the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart was in ruins, but that didn't mean the firm was out of business for good. Didn't they have other offices all around the world? They could just be biding their time, waiting until they were ready to use her for whatever sort of evil they could cook up.

A new thought entered her mind, and Cordelia panicked even more. What if she couldn't fight it? What if they had her mystically brainwashed, and they would somehow trigger whatever it was they'd done to her and make her real personality disappear again like what Angel had told her had happened with Jasmine? Suddenly, she was remembering watching old war movies with Xander Harris and all of the "sleeper agents" that appeared in them.

Was that what she was? Some sort of evil sleeper agent for Wolfram and Hart? And if so, how did she keep them from triggering her and making her evil? Or was that evil _again_?

With her mind whirling, Cordelia needed a place to sit down and think about things. Her first thought was to go visit Anne, but if she was indeed some sort of sleeper agent and Wolfram and Hart decided to trigger her, would she end up hurting Anne? And if that were the case, then was she safe to be around people at all?

If she needed someone to make sure she didn't become a danger to others, then she should be around Angel. He'd make sure nothing bad happened. Cordelia turned around and started back towards the Hyperion when she remembered why she left in the first place. Angel had been working for Wolfram and Hart—he could be in on it all.

Yet she couldn't imagine Angel ever betraying her like that, no matter how poor his choices seemed to be when she wasn't around…

Only he'd spent the past year with Wolfram and Hart, so… Cordelia's eyes widened again as a new thought entered her mind. Angel could be brainwashed, too!

So if she couldn't go to Anne because she might hurt her, and she couldn't go to Angel because he might be brainwashed, then where could she go?

_She didn't know_.

Feeling completely lost, Cordelia continued to wander the streets of Los Angeles.

* * *

Angel knew being a vampire had its perks. The super strength, the fast healing, and the heightened senses were all things that made unlife a bit easier.

However, it also had some major drawbacks—like the inability to go out into the sun, for instance.

He had no idea where Cordelia had been headed when she'd taken off out of the hotel. He didn't even think _she_ had known where she was going. If it weren't for the damn sun, he could go out there and track her down, completely certain he would be able to track her scent under any conditions. Sometimes he thought he knew her scent better than he knew his own.

Yet without having any idea of where she could possibly go, he couldn't search for her with the sun high in the sky. Wandering the sewers wouldn't get him far in this sort of situation, since Cordelia could be heading in any direction.

And even if he could find her, he had no assurance she'd want to talk to him. She was upset about his deal with Wolfram and Hart, and Angel knew she had every right to be—even if there were circumstances she couldn't understand with her memory the way it was. Angel knew now he had been wrong to accept the deal, even to save Connor. In the end, the price had been too high.

_Connor_… Truth be told, Angel wasn't sure he'd really "saved" Connor at all now. After Wolfram and Hart had collapsed, he'd tried to get in touch with him, but he'd still not had any luck. Even more troublesome was the fact that Angel couldn't seem to find any trace of the family Connor had been given either.

_The thought had entered Angel's mind that he'd made a deal with lawyers in which he hadn't bothered to read the fine print…_

He'd lost everything. His friends, his son, his chance at redemption. He'd thought that perhaps if he could have Cordelia back in his life, that maybe existing could be tolerable. But now? Would she ever be able to accept what he had done, the decisions he'd made in her absence, or would this finally be the thing that pushed her away forever?

Angel was determined not to let that happen. He knew he could never have her the way he wanted, but the fact remained he loved her. She was the best friend he'd ever had, and that was the bottom line. If she was here, if she was still part of the world, then he would do whatever it took to keep her in his life.

So he needed to find her, convince her to forgive him, and get her to come home. What was in the past was already done, but Angel wanted nothing more than to move on from here. They had to.

_Cordelia was all he had left…_

With every bit of patience two hundred and fifty plus years had afforded him, Angel waited for the sun to go down.

* * *

Cordelia didn't know how long she'd been out. The sun was setting, so she knew it had been most of the day, but she'd been too lost in her thoughts to pay attention to time.

She'd almost turned right around and gone back to the Hyperion more than once, but she still didn't know what to say to Angel, or even if she _should_ be around him.

It had occurred to her that he might not even really _be_ Angel. For all she knew. Wolfram and Hart was playing her, forcing her into some sort of twisted game. It wouldn't surprise her in the least, not with as jumbled as her mind was these days. And really, all that stuff Angel had told her had happened in the past two years? Could she honestly believe any of that made enough sense to really happen? It was all completely ridiculous…

Although, on the other hand, when was the last time her life had made any sort of sense?

When the vision came, Cordelia welcomed it. If nothing else, it got her mind of all the things she didn't want to think about. Instead, she could focus on something she knew she could do—even if she didn't know why. _Fight_.

Her face switching to a mask of determination and strength, Cordelia took a sharp turn and headed towards the place she knew she was supposed to be. For the first time all day, she had a destination—a purpose.

The sun sank over the horizon, and Cordelia saw the teenaged girls from her vision standing outside a warehouse. "Hey, you two really need to get out of here," Cordelia told them as she approached.

One of the girls crossed her arms over her chest. "Who are you to tell us what to do?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. _As if she was in the mood to deal with teenage attitude… _"Look, I don't have time to get into how I know this, but if you stay here, vampires are going to walk right around that corner and kill you both, okay?" She pointed past them to the spot she'd seen in her vision.

The second teen took a step backwards, even as she scoffed. "Whoa, lady, you are seriously crazy."

Cordelia gave a heavy sigh. "Would you just go? If I'm really crazy, then do you want to stand here and deal with a crazy lady? Because I'm not leaving, and I will ramble if I have to."

One of the girls opened her mouth to respond, but stopped at the sound of footsteps behind her. She turned, gasping when four vampires in game face appeared around the corner Cordelia had said they would.

"Really, now may be a time you two might want to think about running," Cordelia said, her arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow raised.

Without any further arguments, the two teenagers took off. One of the vampires started after them, but Cordelia stepped in front of him and knocked him down in one fluid movement. "I don't think so, buddy. The buffet table's closed."

A gleam in her eye, Cordelia reached behind her, her hand wrapping around a make-shift stake in her waist band…

* * *

Even with all the people in Los Angeles, Angel had found her. Her scent had called to him, stood out among countless others, yet it had been more than that. Something about her had _called_ to him. He'd felt her presence in a way he never had before.

He knew it would be romantic—even given there futility of their situation—to think of it as something drawing him to Cordelia because of his feelings for her, but he knew it was more than that. Something familiar not only to him, but to his demon as well…

It was right at the edge of his consciousness, a niggling sensation of familiarity he couldn't seem to place. It made him move faster, pushing himself to get to her.

When he did, he found her fighting.

Three vampires stood around her, a pile of dust already at her feet. Out of habit, Angel almost stepped into the fray to save her, when he realized with a start Cordelia didn't _need_ saving. She was moving in a way he'd never seen her move before, with deadly accuracy.

_The vampires didn't stand a chance…_

Shocked by what he was seeing, Angel continued to stare, watching Cordelia as she dispatched her enemies. Then, she turned, wheeling around to face him, her stake still raised.

Their eyes locked, and in that moment, realization hit Angel hard enough to make him take a stumbled step backwards.

_Cordelia was a Slayer.

* * *

_

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	10. Chapter Nine

All Cordelia could do was stare, gaping. Angel leaned against the front desk of the Hyperion, waiting for a response to his question. Finally, the best Cordelia could manage to spit out was, "Huh?"

His arms crossed over his chest, Angel repeated himself. "I asked how long you've been a Slayer."

"And I replied with 'huh,' because that's crazy talk, Angel. I'm not a Slayer. I mean, granted, I don't know much about what I am right now, but I know I'm not one of those." Her memories flashed back to years before, on the blonde woman who had once been the center of Angel's attention, and Cordelia winced. "You're confusing me with…" Although she remembered the other woman's name now, Cordelia couldn't seem to bring herself to say it, not to him and not like this. "…Someone else."

"No, I'm not, and yeah, you are," Angel replied. "Trust me on this, Cordy. I'm a vampire—I kinda know a Slayer when I see one. And tonight, watching you fight, my senses were going haywire."

"Well your senses were wrong this time!" Cordelia yelled, knowing she was suddenly bordering on hysterical, but not knowing how to calm herself down. She remembered enough to know a Slayer was something she did _not_ want to be, and even as her mind screamed that no, Angel had to be wrong, something inside her told her he was anything but…

Angel dropped his hands to his sides and took a step forward, though he stopped when he saw the nervous look in Cordelia's eyes and the way she was pulling back from him. "They're not wrong. You're a Slayer."

"That's impossible! I can't be. I…" Cordelia gasped, her eyes growing wide as a thought entered her mind, and her voice softened. "Angel, did…did she die again?"

"No," Angel replied, shaking his head. "And neither did Faith. Willow did a spell a little while back that activated all of the Potential Slayers. Anyone who could've been a Slayer now is a Slayer. You must've been one and never knew it."

Cordelia took another several steps backwards, stopping when her legs bumped against the sofa. "Angel, you _have_ to be wrong. I'm not a Slayer. I'm just not!"

"Then explain the way you fought those vampires," Angel replied, his arms crossing back over his chest. "You've never fought like that before, and I think even with the gaps in your memory, you know that's the truth."

"I do," Cordelia admitted softly, turning away.

"You fought like a Slayer, Cordy."

"No, I didn't!" Cordelia insisted as her gaze came back around to focus on Angel again. "I fought like…like…"

"Like what?" Angel asked, his eyebrow arched.

"A Wolfram and Hart trained sleeper agent?" Cordelia offered, her voice uncertain.

Angel stared at her for a moment before he blinked and asked, "What?"

"See, Wolfram and Hart had me, and now I'm super strong, so I figure they must've done something to me, only I don't remember what or why, so I have to be some sort of sleeper agent," Cordelia explained in a rush.

"That's insane."

"It's not!" Cordelia insisted, even though she knew he was right. She still liked her crazy sleeper agent theory better than the idea of being a Slayer. "Wolfram and Hart does stuff like that!"

"I think that may be a little over the top, even for them," Angel replied. He dropped his arms again and sighed. "Cordelia, you're a Slayer. You know it as well as I do, even if you don't want to admit it."

Feeling defeated, Cordelia sank down onto the sofa. "I don't want to be," she said after a moment of silence.

"I know." Angel wrapped his arm around her, and Cordelia responded by resting her head on his shoulder, accepting his comforting embrace. They stayed like that, silent for several minutes before Cordelia glanced up.

"I guess this means you're not a Wolfram and Hart sleeper agent either."

"Uh, no, I'm not. Where would you get _that_ idea?"

"Other than the whole thing where you worked for them for the past year?" Cordelia replied, her tone accusatory. She'd agreed to come back with him to the Hyperion after he'd found her fighting those vampires, yet she hadn't gotten over the admission he'd made earlier.

At that, Angel looked sheepish. "Well, yeah, I guess there is that." He cleared his throat and moved his arm off of Cordelia, resting his hands in his lap instead. "They didn't have to use any sort of mind control on me, Cordy. I did their bidding under my own free will."

"Were you evil, Angel? This past year, did you…"

"No!" Angel said quickly, cutting her off. "I didn't… I mean, I wasn't…" He stopped, his shoulders slumping. "But I guess it doesn't matter. I played into their hands, and none of it worked out well. Everyone's dead, and the Powers that Be made it pretty damn clear they aren't happy with me."

"How so?" Cordelia asked with a frown.

"Remember that whole 'Shanshu' thing? Turns out it was about _Spike_." Angel said the name of the other vampire with disgust, but Cordelia could see the pain in his eyes. "The night Wolfram and Hart came down? That was the start of this big, apocalyptic battle I happened to trigger. At the end of it, Spike's heart started beating, and he rode off into the sunrise with Buffy. Last I heard, they were living happily together in Rome."

"Oh, Angel, I'm so sorry," Cordelia replied as she stroked his arm. She stopped abruptly, frowning again. "Wait a minute, I thought that had to be about a vampire with a soul."

"Spike got one. Went out and earned it apparently. Bastard always did have to show me up at everything." Angel shook his head. "That's what bothered me about it the most. Not that it wasn't about me, or that I didn't end up with Buffy, but that _he_ did. And when I realized that, it made me realize some other things, too."

"Like what?" Cordelia prodded gently.

"Like maybe Buffy isn't really the love of my life."

Cordelia's hand dropped. "What? Angel, did you hear what you just said?"

"Yeah, I did." Angel laughed, though the sound managed to not be a happy one. "I got over her, Cordy. I didn't want to admit it for a long time, but I did some thinking after what happened with Wolfram and Hart, and I realized I was using the idea of loving her to keep myself from getting too close to anyone else."

Angel turned and took Cordelia's hands in his. "Do you remember James? The vampire whose girlfriend died, and he couldn't go on?"

Cordelia's face scrunched as she tried to push the memory forward. "I think so. It…it was after Buffy died? You were worried because you didn't fall apart when she died the way James did when he lost Elizabeth."

"Exactly. But Cordy, when I lost you…" Angel dropped one of her hands to reach up and tuck a strand of Cordelia's hair behind her ear. "I didn't go get my heart cut out, but I fell apart. I put on a show every day, but really, I was retreating more and more into myself, growing steadily bitterer towards the world. I thought at the time it was the effect of working for Wolfram and Hart, but now I realize it was because when I lost you, I lost my way. I _need_ you to go on, Cordelia. It was never that way with Buffy. Not for me, and not really for her. I could see that in the way she was with Spike in the end. It pissed me off to think of him with her just because, well, he's Spike and his mere existence in the world pisses me off, but another part of me—a part I would never, ever tell him existed, mind you—was happy for her. I was glad she'd found someone she loves, and annoyance that he may be, he will love her back with everything he is. She deserves that."

Angel paused for a moment, letting the words hang between them. Cordelia's eyes were wide, his declaration that he loved her more than he'd actually loved Buffy something she'd never thought she'd hear—and still wasn't sure she was hearing now.

With a soft smile, Angel cupped Cordelia's cheek, stroking her skin with his thumb. "Do you know what I thought, when I realized you were a Slayer? I thought, 'They got it wrong.'"

Cordelia blinked before she reared back. Despite the fact she was none too happy with the idea of being a Slayer, she didn't appreciate her fitness to be one being called into question either. "Excuse me?"

Quickly, Angel realized Cordelia's misinterpretation of his words. "No, that's not what I meant!" he said. "As far as Slayers go, I'm sure you're going to be a good one."

Cordelia gave a short nod. "Damn skippy."

Unable to help himself, Angel chuckled before he sobered again. "What I did mean was the Powers got it wrong about who I was supposed to be with. Buffy, too. I don't know how prophecies work, really, but maybe all they knew is I was supposed to be with a Slayer and she was supposed to be with a vampire with a soul. So maybe they pushed us together, thinking we were supposed to be that way, only it didn't fit, because we weren't the right pair." Angel turned away from Cordelia and dropped his hands back in his lap. "Maybe I shouldn't even be saying any of this."

"No, I think you should," Cordelia said softly, reaching out to place her hand over his heart. "I like what you're saying."

"I'd like it better if it didn't pretty much ensure that anything between us is doomed to badness," Angel replied.

"Maybe it means the opposite," Cordelia ventured. "Maybe you and Buffy couldn't make it work because they did get it wrong. If we're what's right, then…"

Angel's head snapped up, and he met her eyes, his mouth a grim line. "Are your really willing to take that chance, Cordelia? Are you willing to start a relationship with me _knowing_ what could happen and what I would do if I lost my soul again?"

Cordelia wanted to say yes. She wanted to tell Angel she loved him enough that she was willing to accept whatever limitations being with him entailed. But she also knew she couldn't. If she and Angel finally gave into the feelings between them, Cordelia knew the temptation would be too great, the risk too strong for her to chance. Giving in to what she wanted could cost innocent lives, and that wasn't a price she was willing to pay.

"No, I'm not," she replied. "Angel, I'm sorry, I wish I was, but…"

"Don't be sorry for that, Cordy. If you could, then you wouldn't be the woman I love. You don't have it in you to be selfish like that."

Cordelia smiled slightly. "This coming from a man who knew me in Sunnydale."

Angel laughed. "So you remember what you were like then, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Cordelia replied. "Spoiled brat extraordinaire."

"Can I let you in on a little secret?" Angel asked as he leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with the lighter tone their conversation had suddenly taken. Cordelia nodded, even as she found herself growing lost in them. "I liked you a little then, too."

"You did?" Cordelia asked with surprise, before she blinked and pulled back, waving her hand dismissively. "Of course you did, buddy. I'm a major hottie, and I always have been."

Angel laughed. "I see none of this has dealt a blow to your self esteem."

"If anything, it's a boost. I mean, if I can have my body hijacked by a hellgod, go into a coma, spend several months in a freezer, and _still_ look this good, well, damn," Cordelia joked.

"You've never been anything less than gorgeous, Cordelia." Angel moved towards her, the mood shifting again. His lips were close to hers, his cool breath tickling her skin, and even though Cordelia knew this wasn't something she should be doing, she couldn't seem to break away from him. If anything, she was moving with him. In all honesty, she'd wanted this man since she was sixteen years old, even if that desire hadn't always been in the forefront of her mind.

What would one kiss really hurt?

"As much as I hate to break the touching moment, I've got an important message for you, Angel."

Angel and Cordelia broke away sharply, turning with surprise towards the woman now standing in the lobby. Angel's back stiffened, his eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here, Lilah?"

"Well, _hell_ is on the right track," Lilah replied. She smiled coldly. "You've finally gained yourself an audience with the Senior Partners, Angel. Oh, and by the way—they have your son."

* * *

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	11. Chapter Ten

Angel stared at Lilah, dumbfounded, for several moments before he came to his senses enough to respond. "What did you just say?

"I said the Senior Partners have your son, Angel," Lilah replied matter-of-factly. "What, don't tell me you thought things would go well for him after you broke your contract." When Angel said nothing else, Lilah let out a sharp bark of laughter. "You did, didn't you? Wow, and you'd think by now you would have gotten over all that annoying, yet easily manipulated naiveté." She took several steps forward, Angel's defensive posture not putting her off in the least. After all, what could he do to her now that she was dead?

"Here's the abridged version so you can play a little catch up," Lilah said, only a few feet away from Angel now. "When you made your deal with the Senior Partners, they gave you something in return—that something was Connor, healthy and normal. But you turned around, stabbed them in the back, and waged war on your benefactors, Angel. Did you honestly think they were going to keep their end of the bargain if you couldn't keep yours?"

For once, Angel was at a loss for a comeback. He hated to admit it, but Lilah made a good point—one he should've realized before. It shamed him now to realize he hadn't even considered what would happen to Connor if he took on Wolfram and Hart after their deal. He'd just blindly accepted his son would be fine.

Over two hundred and fifty years of existence should've taught him things never worked out that neatly.

"I won't let them keep my son," Angel snapped.

"No, of course you won't. They were banking on that as a matter of fact," Lilah replied with a cold smile, reveling in the fact that finally, she had the upper hand over Angel.

Lilah stepped back, walking back and forth in front of Angel as she began talking again. "Now, the child of two vampires, that's a nice little collector's piece, you have to admit, and one the Senior Partners wouldn't mind keeping. Maybe they could have him stuffed and mounted."

Angel started forward, anger flaring in his dark eyes, but stopped short when Lilah turned towards him again, the smile on her face making him uneasy in a way she'd never been able to manage before.

"But you, Angel. Having your dust in a jar—nothing could make the Senior Partners happier."

Angel crossed his arms over his chest and met Lilah's gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "So they're using him as a bargaining chip. Me for him. That's why you're here."

"That's pretty much the drill," Lilah replied with a look that told Angel she was enjoying this more than he could ever be comfortable with. "Your son can live as long as you agree to hand yourself over to the mercy of the Senior Partners." Lilah shivered. "This is just making me all tingly."

Angel felt resignation hanging over him. He'd known things would ultimately end like this. Cordelia coming back hadn't meant he would get to have her—nothing ever worked out that way for him. Instead, he'd made a foolish decision, and the price of that mistake wasn't paid in full. He knew there was no real choice here for him to make anyway. Despite anything that had happened in their past, Connor was his son, and Angel didn't hesitate over the thought of trading himself for him.

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Cordelia had stepped forward, coming between Lilah and Angel. "No, that's not how it's going to work. It's going to go like this—your bosses are going to give me a challenge. If I complete it, then Angel and Connor's lives are mine. If I lose, then they can have us both." Cordelia gestured between herself and Angel.

Lilah frowned, Cordelia's move taking her by surprise. "I really don't think…" She began even though her words were drowned out by Angel's reply.

"Cordy, no. _No_. You're staying out of this."

Cordelia turned towards him, her expression set firmly in determination. "No, I'm not staying out of this. I'm not about to let you go, not again. This is the only way, Angel."

Angel shook his head. "I can't let you do this."

"Oh, but it's too late. She's made a bargain. And I can never refuse a bargain."

Angel turned sharply, taking a step backwards from the man now standing with them in the lobby. He was tall and breathtakingly _beautiful_, with clear blue eyes and long, blond hair. "Who are you?"

The man laughed in response, a sound Angel found altogether unsettling. "I suppose you of all people wouldn't know what the _true_ face of an angel looks like, now would you?"

Angel's brow furrowed and again he asked, "Who are you?"

This time, the man responded with a sweeping gesture with his arm. "Let's just say, I'm a man of wealth and taste. But I'm not here right now for you, Angel—though I'm sure I will be soon." He pointed to Cordelia. "She's the one who wants to play a game of Let's Make a Deal."

Angel started to protest again, but Cordelia stepped forward, pushing him aside. She knew they didn't have time to weigh the options, and she would be damned before she'd let herself lose Angel again after all they'd been through to get to this point. She'd do whatever it took to preserve the one real thing she had left.

"I do want to play," Cordelia replied, her hands crossing over her chest. "But first, you have to agree to one more term."

"And that would be?" the man asked.

"When I win, not only do I get Angel and Connor back, but Angel's soul stays—permanently. No more of that 'pure happiness' clause, nothing. Angelus is gone. Forever."

Cordelia had been afraid that trying to tack on this extra bit would anger the man, but instead, his lips spread in a slow, wide grin. "So this will be a quest for love then? Oh, those are the most interesting to watch. I accept your terms."

"Then give me yours," Cordelia replied, her gaze steely.

The man then sighed, as if this part of the conversation was making him incredibly bored. "Fine, a challenge. How about I send you on a quest. For something, oh, I don't know, I'll call it…the Cup of Perpetual Torment." He paused there, smirking, and Cordelia didn't miss the way Angel began to squirm. She got the feeling she was missing out on some inside joke.

"So this Cup, I get it and what?"

"You manage to find the Cup and drink from it, and you get your boys back—and Angel's soul is from here on out a permanent fixture. So are these terms to your liking? This is normally the part where people start making sure to ask for wealth, fame, and fortune."

Cordelia shook her head. "I've already been offered that before, and I don't want it. I want this."

"Seems like very little to risk your life for. Are you sure you don't want me to throw in something else? A car…maybe a plasma screen television? Those are quite nice."

"I told you what I wanted, now get on with it already," Cordelia snapped.

"Fine." He snapped his fingers and a table appeared in front of him. On top of it was a piece of parchment and two pens. "Sign this and the deal is sealed."

Cordelia took a step towards the table, but Angel reached out and grabbed her arm. "Cordy, don't do this, please. I'm not worth this."

She turned, smiling softly at Angel as she reached up to rest her hand on his cheek. "Yes, you are. _We_ are. I've waited a long time for us to get our chance, and I'm not going to pass it up now."

"But this is insane. Whatever he's going to do to you, it isn't going to be easy. He's toying with us, Cordy. I can't let you…"

"And you're not letting me. I'm doing this on my own."

"Cordy, please. This is crazy."

"Love makes you do the wacky," Cordelia replied with an almost sad smile. She slipped her arm out of Angel's grip before kissing him softly. "I'll see you soon, Champ."

When she began to walk towards to the table, Angel tried to follow her again, only to be suddenly stopped by an invisible barrier. He snarled, beating against it in desperation and anger.

"And there you go with the futile bouts of rage again," Lilah said, reminding Angel of her presence.

Angel turned on Lilah, his eyes flashing yellow. "I'm not going to let her do this. I'll…I'll make some sort of deal of my own, keep her from having to make one."

Lilah shook her head. "No can do, Angel. You already made your deal. And didn't even bother to peruse the contract, if I remember correctly—which I do. At least she's not making that mistake."

Angel turned back towards the table, watching as Cordelia read over the parchment. "Don't sign it, Cordy," Angel called out to her. "Please, don't do this."

He didn't know whether she couldn't hear him or if she was simply ignoring him, but Cordelia didn't turn towards him as she picked up a pen. She touched it to the parchment, and the faint smell of Cordelia's blood wafted to Angel, letting him know she was signing her name with something other than standard ink. He called out to her again, though this time it came out as nothing more than a frustrated growl. Angel watched as the man added his own signature to the parchment, then picked it up with a grin.

In a flash of light, they both disappeared.

Angel roared, slamming his fists against the invisible barrier. Suddenly, it gave way, and he stumbled forward, hitting the floor of the lobby face-first.

"And you're supposed to be a Champion," Lilah said, smirking.

Angel got to his feet, his eyes narrowing on Lilah. "Where the hell did he just take Cordelia?"

"You saw as much as I did, Angel," Lilah replied. "I…" She stopped when a faint ringing sounded from inside her suit jacket, then reached inside to retrieve a cell phone. Angel couldn't tell what was going on from Lilah's side of the conversation, but when she snapped the phone shut and turned to him again, he quickly found out.

"A waiting room has been arranged for you. A limo will be out front to take us."

Angel stiffened. "A what? I want you to bring Cordelia back here. Call whoever that was and make them get her back."

"I can't do that, Angel. But if you come with me, I can assure you that you'll be able to see her."

"And I'm suppose to what, trust you?" Angel asked. "The last time I got into one your evil limos, Lilah, absolutely nothing good came of it."

"And yet, you made the choice to get in," Lilah pointed out. "No one forced you to make any of the choices you made this past year, Angel—and you didn't have a lack of soul to pin it on either. You did what you wanted to do, and now your friends are dead and your son is in the hands of the Senior Partners. That's all on your head. So cut the high and mighty crap."

Angel found himself at a loss for a response. She was right. He knew it, and she knew it.

Lilah started walking towards the front door before she turned around to face Angel again. "So are you coming or not?"

With a sigh and more than a little reluctance, Angel followed Lilah out of the hotel.

* * *

Cordelia groaned, the headache she was currently nursing reminiscent of the old days of painful visions. Not sure of her surroundings other than the fact she was face down on a hard surface, she opened her eyes and pulled herself up to her feet.

Immediately, she wished she hadn't. The world she found herself in now was desolate and dark, and the promise of what it held in its shadows was more terrifying than anything she'd ever faced before.

In a whisper, she gave voice to what she saw.

"I'm in hell."

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this story. Life has been pretty big on the busy and hectic lately, and I haven't had time to write very much. However, I don't have any intentions of abandoning this story. What I would like to know, however, is if the majority of you want me to post updates as I get them (even if there maybe time between new chapters) or if you'd rather me wait to post anymore until the story is finished (which may be a while from now). Let me know, and I'll make a decision from there.


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